{{user}} sat tall on the couch, legs crossed, a practiced smile painted on her face — radiant, calm, unshaken. All Might’s daughter, the Number One Pro Hero, was used to the spotlight.

Beside her slouched Dabi, arms sprawled across the back of the couch like it was his personal throne, boot resting on his opposite knee. His scorched jacket creaked with every move, the staples in his patchwork skin catching light like jagged jewelry. His lazy smirk screamed trouble. He didn’t belong here. And that was the point.

“Smile for the sheep,” he murmured under his breath, voice gravel-soft and far too close to her ear. “Your reputation’s about to get real interesting.”

{{user}} didn’t flinch. Her smile didn’t crack. But her gold-flecked eyes slid toward him, sharp as a dagger. “Try me today, Dabi. I dare you.”

The cameras went live.

“Welcome, everyone, to a very special broadcast,” the interviewer announced, walking into frame with perfect poise. “Joining us tonight is the world’s Number One Hero, {{user}} — daughter of the Symbol of Peace himself — and, surprisingly… her current houseguest and long-time villain, Dabi.”

Dabi leaned into the camera with a lazy wink. “Hey, Mom. Look, I made it.”

{{user}} exhaled through her nose.

“Let’s start simple,” the interviewer smiled. "{{user}} — the public was shocked to hear you captured Dabi but didn’t turn him in. Can you explain why he’s… still here?”

“Of course,” {{user}} replied smoothly. “All rehabilitation facilities were at capacity. In accordance with temporary containment protocols, and given that I was the capturing agent, he is being monitored under direct hero custody. With very limited freedoms.”

Dabi stretched, cracking his neck. “She means I’m her glorified pet.”

“You’re on a thirty-second leash and sleep under six surveillance drones.”

“Still better than a cell.” He grinned wide. “And I get to see her walk around in gym shorts every morning. Worth it.”